


Us, At The End of The World

by redthorns



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Aliens, Angst, M/M, Multi, Resistance Fighters, improvised military, iwaoi - Freeform, more characters to be added as story progresses, oikawa was in his third year of college, set a few years in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7343347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redthorns/pseuds/redthorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They told each other than they'd see each other again, that they'd stay in touch. The latter was a lie and it took an alien invasion for the former to become true. Falling in love while the world ends is never a good idea, but then again, falling in love wasn't new to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It started like any other temporarily unexplained phenomena: cellphone videos across the world captured videos of out of focus lights in the night sky, floating or zipping past or just sitting idle. Social media blew up – Twitter, Instagram, Facebook – before more serious news outlets got ahold of it. One report from BBC was an interview with someone who had caught one of the now famous videos of the mysterious lights:

_“What do you think it was?” The reporter asked._

_The answer came quickly and confidently. “Aliens. Without a doubt.”_

NASA was scrambling. Conspiracy theorists were having a field day.

That is, until they made themselves known.

It was not something that happened slowly. There was no warning – no scientist or military statement or even some nutbag saying the rapture had come or whatever – it was just suddenly _happening_.

The ships fell like stars, but it was not beautiful. The EMP that knocked out global power was like a reverse spotlight; every single person in the world had their eyes on the sky as it collapsed into nothing.

It started like any other temporarily unexplained phenomena, until it was explained in the most basic, brutal way. Humans were the dinosaurs, and the aliens were the new K-T Event.

 --

The nightmares were bad tonight. Even after he woke up, images pulsed behind his eyelids; creatures moving through a film of smoke, long limbed and bug-eyed. People screaming, crying. His family, already dea– No. He couldn't (shouldn't, wouldn't) think about that. Not when he was still alive. He had promised them, after all.

Oikawa peeked out from behind the heavy curtains he had put up over his hideout's windows. Day was breaking, the sky pastel shades of pink and orange and blue. It comforted him, until he noticed the blot in the sky. Normally, he would have brushed it off as a smudge on the window, a distortion in the glass. But he knew better by now. The blot was too perfectly oval, too _sharp_. It looked like a drop of water on a not-quite-dry watercolor painting.

Oikawa pulled away from the window like he had been burned. He absentmindedly pressed his knuckles into his right knee, a nervous tick he had developed in his last year of highschool and carried through three years of college and into the apocalypse.

He slung his backpack over his shoulders, his very bones beginning to shake with apprehension. Oikawa had no way of knowing how long they had been there; it could have been all night, or they could have just arrived moments before he looked out the window. The former was ideal. If they had been there for hours already, that means that they had already probably finished whatever business they had here. The latter, though… Oikawa shivered.

Oikawa had two options: run, or hide. Fight or flight. Funny, how those have been the only two options humanity has had recently. Their humanity had been stripped down to the most primal bit of coding they had.

The building seemed to take in a breath. The hair on the back of Oikawa's neck stood on end as shivers raced down his spine. Sweat beaded on his brow, raced down his temple. He had felt this once before, and it had not ended well. Everything felt like static. Still, so very, very still. Then, a few floors – or rooms – down, there was a crash followed by a… _different_ sound. Metallic, like summer bugs in the trees, but savage, too. Unearthly. Otherworldly. Like the sound between stars.

It pushed Oikawa into action. He needed to be quiet, but fast.

And if he were to be pursued, he'd need to be even faster.

The door to the sparse apartment he had been holed up in opened silently. He peered into the deserted hallway, his ears straining, trying to get the barest hint of where the alien currently was. He counted to twenty, and when no sounds reached his ears, he stepped out of the enclosed safety. Oikawa made sure to leave the door inconspicuously open, like it had been deserted for as long as the other apartments, since the first ship touched down and unloaded the downfall of man.

He was careful to avoid the debris on the floor as he moved stealthily, going as fast as he dared. By the time he got to the exit, he'd be drenched in sweat and exhausted but being uncomfortable was better than all out sprinting and drawing unwanted attention. Even if he managed to outrun the alien if it heard him, the screaming would attract other humans – and they could be worse than Earth's new occupants.

Oikawa made it to the stairwell before he heard something careening through the halls above him. The sound froze him, the sweat along his brow and neck freezing as well. For a moment, even his lungs and heart stopped working as he listened.

The stairwell door behind him burst open.

Oikawa didn't wait; he ran.

Up and up, taking the steps two at a time. It was too late to be concerned about quietness, he could practically feel the alien breathing down his neck. His footsteps clashed and echoed on the metal steps, his sneakers squeaking – but all those sounds were drowned out in his ears by the scream the alien released as it chased him. Vicious and bloodthirsty, like a warrior's battle cry.

Oikawa slammed into the door leading to the roof, barely registering the pain of the collision. His pulse pounded in his ears, his blood roaring and hands shaking as he tried to wrestle the bar barricading the door off of the latches. All the while, he heard the alien getting closer and closer. It's footfalls were heavier than anything Oikawa had ever heard; each step seemed to rattle his bones until finally –

He lifted the barricade and pushed through the door into the open air. He slammed the door closed behind him, barely registering the sight of the alien coming up the stairs as he ran. Everything was in slow motion – the sound of the metal door crinkling like wrapping paper, his surroundings, the lack of anything he could use as a weapon. The edge of the roof was drawing closer and closer, just like the shadow of death behind him.

Oikawa made a split second decision, and before he could think any better of it, he was airborne.

He hit the neighboring building's concrete roof hard, all of his joints screaming out in protest. The wind was knocked out of him, and for a moment all Oikawa could do was groan and writhe as his lungs tried to reclaim air. He rolled onto his hands and knees, knowing the monster would be hot on his heels in seconds if he didn't _move._

And he still needed some kind of weapon.

Oikawa's bones protested as he got to his feet. There was no where else to run. If Oikawa didn't find something to defend himself with, this would be it – his final stand. There would be one less human in the world; the visitors would be one step closer to total eradication of the human race. And for some incredibly stupid reason, the thought filled Oikawa with an outlandish sense of responsibility. He didn't want to die. Not here, not like this, like a bug under the boot of a careless giant.

He spied something lying on the ground a few yards away, just as he heard the heavy landing of the monster behind him. He didn't turn back. There was no time. He just ran, eyes locked on a broken bit of rebar. It wouldn't do much, but at least he'd go down with a fight.

As his fingers wrapped around the rusted rebar, something grabbed him by his backpack. A scream tore itself from Oikawa's throat as he twisted with every ounce of strength in his body. His momentum threw him off, sending him sprawling onto his back.

He swung the rebar as he fell.


	2. Chapter 2

The alien's screech was cut short by the rebar. It lodged itself into the hinge at the creature's jaw with a sickening _whack_.

The creature shuddered, seamless, blank face frozen in a triumphant scream, as Oikawa pulled the rebar from where it was lodged in it's head. Bits of pulsating, iridescent blue skin fell from the area like shattered glass. By the time they hit the ground, they were black as night. The pieces were so thin, so delicate looking. They plinked against the ground like wind chimes in the softest breeze. He registered all of this information in the millisecond it took for the creature above him to recover.

The alien roared, it's jaw hanging lopsided. Oikawa could feel the anger, the hunger to kill radiating from the creature as he crawled backwards, trying to get away. And when the thing in front of him turned it's head just slightly to the side, Oikawa was able to see the off-white, doughy looking flesh beneath the bug-eye textured outer skin.

Oikawa managed to get to his feet and dodge a swipe of the alien's claws. He'd witnessed first hand what those claws could do to a person's body.

He swung the rebar again, aiming for the same spot at it's jaw. The rebar struck again, the old, brown metal sinking into the exposed flesh there. Thick, black blood sprayed, coating Oikawa. It was cold, like blood that had already congealed, and as the horror sank into him, Oikawa swung one more time.

The alien's body went rigid before collapsing to the ground, twitching. It's chest heaved rapidly, it's clawed fingers scrabbling against the bits of rubble beneath them, before it stilled.

\--

Oikawa found an empty back alley to change out of his ruined clothes. He'd made it two blocks – just two blocks – before the nerves became unbearable. The blood on his body wasn't… burning, or itching, or eating through his clothes and skin, so he figured he was safe from immediate death for the time being. But he had no idea of knowing what the consequences of hanging out in alien blood-soaked clothes could be and he decided that he didn't want to find out, either.

He pulled a black long-sleeved athletic compression top over his head before pulling a dark grey t-shirt over that. He changed into his spare jeans, worn a bit thin, but they were easy to move in and weren't noisy. His sneakers, he decided, were fine. There were only a few specks of that strange, cold, black blood on them anyway.

Only when his back pressed against the cold wall of the alley did Oikawa realize he had been shaking. Hard. He brought his hands to his face – clean, thanks to half a bottle's worth of water, all he had been willing to spare – and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. The only thing he could feel was the sharp bite of the rebar in his palm, even though it had been put away in his re-packed backpack for easy access. All he could hear was the screeching of the alien, the pounding of it's feet as it got closer, closer, closer–

Oikawa's brown eyes opened, taking in the bright blue midday sky. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Not a single blot marring the peaceful image. For now, Oikawa was safe from the monsters that patrolled the skies. He needed to get moving, find a new place to hole up now that his apartment had been compromised. He didn't think he could bring himself to go back that way anyway.

He stuck to the shadows as he walked, avoiding the main streets as best as he could without disorienting himself. Twenty minutes later, he spied a cluster of apartment buildings. Even from a few blocks away, he could tell they weren't in good shape; the eastern side of one of them was collapsed and crumbling, one had what appeared to be scorch marks climbing all the way to the fourth floor. For what Oikawa needed, they would work.

The first thing Oikawa realized when he got to the entrance of the apartment building was that the door was barely attached to it's hinges. The second thing he realized is that while the outside of the buildings looked bad, the interior was far, far worse. What looked to be a makeshift barricade – desks, chairs, tables even – blocked the entrance. Oikawa could see no way in, unless he wanted to risk climbing the precariously settled blocade.

He pulled away from the back entrance, a sigh on his lips. He looked at the neighboring buildings; they were in better shape, but the most of the windows he could see were broken in ways that told Oikawa they might be claimed by people already. He'd prefer to stick to this one, if the universe was okay with that. His eyes scanned the area, the sides of the building for anything that would help him. Finally, he spotted what he needed.

Along the back wall of the apartment building was a fire escape. The wrought iron was a bit damaged, and some entire steps were missing, but it would work.

If he could get up to the first level. When he tugged on the ladder, it didn't budge. After a moment of inspecting it, Oikawa discovered that there was a dent in the side of it, preventing the ladder from being able to slide down. He'd probably have to jump for it.

Oikawa rubbed his palms on top of his thighs, hoping that this wouldn't cause too much noise. A flailing human trying to climb up a weathered fire escape probably made more noise than he'd want. If he was quick, though, he'd be fine. Probably. Hopefully.

The muscles in Oikawa's thighs flexed as he jumped, grabbing onto the bottom wrung of the ladder. He grunted as the metal groaned at the sudden weight of him. He pulled himself up, up, up onto the first platform, pushing his dirty brown hair out of his eyes. He looked up, around, checking for any unwanted guests from his crouched position. When nothing caught his keen eyes, he straightened and made his trek up the fire escape steps, careful of crumbling iron and jagged edges.

The ease was short lived. Oikawa climbed three and a half flights before the escape disappeared completely. He swore under his breath, sitting carefully on the remaining steps. Now he needed a plan to get inside. He would just climb through a window, but of course all of them were closed and _of course_ the latches were on the inside.

Oikawa had two options: one, climb back down and try to find another way in – maybe cross over from another building's roof. Or, two, break one of the windows and pray that no one and nothing hears it.

The answer seemed obvious until the doubts began to set in. Not every apartment building had an entry on the roof. He didn't know if he could even make another jump like he had earlier, with the aid of adrenaline and sure death nipping at his heels. Worse, there could be hostile types in the other building – people, aliens, even animals. Skittish, deadly, hungry.

All Oikawa wanted to do was find a safe place to regain some semblance of control and reign in his fear.

He weighed his options…

The rebar struck the glass, hard. White, webby cracks splintered through the window. Oikawa swung again, and again, until _finally_ the window gave. He cleared the shards that hung in the window with the rebar, all senses on high alert for any sign of danger. He slipped into the apartment, holding his breath as he crunched across the broken glass littering the carpeted floor.

No warning shouts, no monstrous roaring.

It was silent.

Oikawa was about to count his lucky stars, but then the smell hit him. Then he saw it, there, in the doorway of the bedroom.

Oikawa doubled over and hurled the leftover bile in his stomach.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do y'all want lengthier chapters? My thinking is that they're short and sweet so they don't take up too much of people's time, but this is my first fanfic so I'm not too sure on etiquette yet! Anyway, let me know what you guys think!!


	3. Chapter 3

The body had just started to bloat, as far as Oikawa could tell; some discoloration there, some grotesque puffiness here. The smell was just turning pungent. He tried not to gag as he covered his mouth with the crook of his elbow, suddenly hyperaware of how grimy his hands were, as he noticed the gaping hole in the body's chest, strips of decaying flesh and musculature hanging loose. Thankfully the head was turned downward, the face obscured by a mass of black hair and the sticky carpet.

Oikawa hoped it was no one he knew. Japan was big enough. Survivors were spread out far enough. The Miyagi prefecture had a population of 2.303 million people. Before the world ended, at least.

Oikawa rose from his kneeling position. He made his way to the bed, stripping the sheets before going back to the corpse. The least he could do was cover the sight. Out of respect for the deceased, and, perhaps a bit selfishly, for his own comfort. There's no way he was staying in this room, not with the busted window and knowing that someone died there, but leaving the corpse to rot in plain sight seemed wrong. As Oikawa unfolded the sheet, something pinned beneath the body caught his eye. He sunk back onto his haunches, trying to get a closer look without getting… too close.

There, cradled in the body's left arm, half under it's torso, is a shortwave radio.

Oikawa's eyes lit up as he began to reach for the object before he stops, realization hitting him. This wouldn't be his first time looting a body – but the last time he had done this, he had known the person. But… it's not like this unfortunate soul would need the radio anymore. The morbid thought almost made Oikawa laugh. Which probably wasn't a good sign.

He steels himself and reaches out. He tries to be as gentle as possible, as if he's trying to avoid waking a sleeping person, before he realizes that'll get him nowhere fast. He gives a firmer tug, wincing at how little the body gives. The hand protectively wrapped around the radio would have to move – or, more accurately, _be_ moved.

Oikawa bit back a noise of disgust as he shuffled closer to the body on his haunches. He ignored the shaking of his hands as he reached forward, ignored the taut, thin feeling of the skin on the body's forearm as he tugged it out from where it was tucked. Oikawa was sure he could hear a creaking from within the body, like the joints were old door hinges.

He ripped the radio out from underneath the body, launching himself back away from it. It looked worse, now that he had disturbed it; the arm positioned differently, the torso tipped just slightly but enough to give him a better view of the killing blow it had received.

Against his heaving chest, Oikawa clutched the radio.

Oikawa tipped his head back, letting his body slump against the pale blue walls. He could feel the warm late afternoon sun caressing his brow bone, his temple. He found solace in the warmth, despite the chill that seemed to emanate from the body a few feet away.

Just one more to add to the pile of millions.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that, just resting, reclaiming his mind enough to keep moving forward. It could have been only minutes, or perhaps it was hours. By the time he rose onto unsteady feet – he was so, so tired – the sky outside only had mere wisps of orange and pink decorating the horizon. The remains of the city below him, the shadows of the remaining buildings were just beginning to meld into the evening.

Oikawa cut a path through the kitchenette to avoid stepping over the body. He'd search the rest of the apartment later, maybe, when daylight was strong and his exhaustion put at bay. He stepped into the hall, his shoulders sagging even more at the sight of the caved in room across from him. He would have liked to stay in the apartment across the hall; it would have left him with a clear evacuation route if he needed one.

The apartment across the hall and to the right looked safe. The door was cracked open, but the air inside was still enough to tell Oikawa that no one had been inside for a long, long time. The smell of the body didn't reach past the hall, either, which Oikawa was thankful for. The apartment was sparse inside, with only a couch and loveseat in the living area, a small but clean kitchen area, and a small bedroom behind the wall in front of the couch. It was set up more like a studio than a full apartment, with an open floor plan, but it would suit Oikawa's needs just fine. He slipped into the bedroom like a ghost, dropping his backpack onto the bed. He sat, studying the radio he still held in his hands.

He doubted sleep would come, so he got to work.

–

He could hear someone walking around in the apartment across the hall. The padding of feet, the whisper of something brushing against the walls. Oikawa's back was pressed against the side of the bed; immobile with fear as he watched the shadow tremble through the crack in the door. The shape was undefined, only vaguely human.

The door across the hall opened more, revealing the previously dead body. It's feet hovered above the carpet, the tips of blue toes visible, at odds with the sound of pounding feet Oikawa could hear.

A bloom of black blood spread from the body's chest as it drew closer and closer, a low moan coming from behind the sheet. It's head lolled to the side, like it's neck wasn't strong enough to hold up the thing's skull.

Oh, God, it was right in front of Oikawa and he couldn't move – all he could do was stare as the thing dropped to it's feet, it's covered face suddenly right in front of Oikawa's eyes. The sheet draped across the face, creasing at the nose and flattening against the gaping mouth like someone had pulled the sheet taut behind it and it was screaming for it's life, _begging_ –

Oikawa woke with a start, body drenched in cold sweat. His head snapped up, the muscles sore and aching. His back _was_ pressed against the side of the bed, but he was facing a blank wall and the bedroom door was closed and there was no reanimated body underneath a sheet anywhere to be found.

But he did hear pounding feet. Many pairs. Oikawa was on his feet in an instant, his hands wrapped around the rebar he had nearly forgotten about as he pressed himself against the wall next to the bedroom door. He could hear someone making their way through his apartment, hear them muttering something to their friends. Oikawa couldn't make out the words; it was enough to tell him that these people knew to be stealthy, and that they had probably done this before.

This was very, very bad. Rogue humans were bad enough, but an entire team was different. An entire team that was _organized_ was deadly.

The bedroom door opened slowly and silently, a figure clad in all black just barely stepping into the room before Oikawa swung the rebar into the person's stomach, sending them crumbling to the ground. He wouldn't survive a fight, not against this many people, so Oikawa's only choice was to stun them and get out. Fast.

The person groaned on the floor as Oikawa leapt over him, sprinting through the living area of the apartment. A bright light blinded him for a moment – a flashlight being swung towards the sound of something running – but Oikawa knew the layout of the apartment well enough to make it out into the hall before the attackers regained their senses.

Oikawa barely registered the empty hallway before he bolted through the open door into the apartment that held the dead body – and now many other bodies, all alive and dressed in black. There was only a handful, three in this apartment, plus the two in the other, but these people had _guns_.

Everyone stood stock still. Oikawa, wide eyed and panicked like a feral animal; the gang standing with their rifle-mounted flashlights pointing towards Oikawa.

A person Oikawa hadn't noticed at first rose from their kneeling position at the side of the sheet covered body, his arms slack at his sides as he faced Oikawa. The bottom half of his face was covered with some kind of mask, the top of his head covered with a riot police style helmet like the others in the room.

The masked figure lifted the helmet from his head, revealing short, sweaty hair and an oddly familiar brow and teary eyes that, in the semi-darkness, looked mismatched. Something about that made something in the pit of Oikawa's stomach drop, something akin to adrenaline spiking through his heart. The masked man made some gesture with his hand, the men around him lowering their guns – the flashlights now pointed at Oikawa's feet rather than into his eyes. So the masked man… he was the leader of whoever these people were.

The masked man took half a step towards Oikawa. It was an unthreatening move, but it still put Oikawa even more on edge. He hadn't failed to notice these people's body language when he ran into the room. Oikawa had always been perceptive, even as a child. His brain had snapped the visual clues together almost instantly, even if he hadn't been meaning to; these people obviously knew whoever that body had been.

And Oikawa was the only other thing in this building. As far as these people were concerned, he was the prime suspect. And in this world, suspect was as good as culprit.

Those peculiar eyes roamed over Oikawa, a million thoughts flashing behind them.

Oikawa opened his mouth, wanting to say _something_ , but the hairs on the back of his neck rose as recognition hit him. His lungs, his _heart,_ everything constricted for a split second that felt like an eternity as Oikawa met those familiar mismatched eyes.

Suddenly, the owner of those eyes thrust out his hand, past Oikawa's shoulder, and shouted, “STAND DOWN.”

Oikawa flinched, whipping around to face his would-be attacker. He assumed it was the other hunter from his apartment, the butt of his rifle only an inch from Oikawa's head.

Tense silent stretched through the room, palpable.

“What?” The man didn't lower his rifle, but didn't bring it down onto Oikawa's head, either. “You know this guy or something?”

The question made Oikawa's heart pound even more as he returned his gaze to the all too familiar figure of the masked leader, who still had his arm outstretched, like he could will the other soldier to drop his weapon. Slowly, he lowered his arm before bringing it to the mask that covered the bottom half of his face.

Oikawa saw it all in slow motion.

The familiar slope of his nose, the shape of his mouth, his jaw.

He watched the mouth form his name.

“Oikawa?”

Oikawa dropped to his knees and breathed, “Iwaizumi?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'd like to apologize for such a late update! I was suddenly swamped with things to do, and I just couldn't find as much time to write as I wanted. Hopefully I'll settle into a regular update schedule soon (how does every Tuesday sound?)
> 
> Second, I'd like to thank all of you for the kind comments and kudos! It means so much to me, especially since this is my first fic and I'm still learning how this site works!
> 
> (Also, I took… a bit of an 'artistic liberty' with one of the characters that I'll explain in the next update, probably.)

**Author's Note:**

> 8tracks mix: https://8tracks.com/becca-barnes/at-the-e-n-d-of-the-w-o-r-l-d  
> tumblr edit + link: http://vibraniumarrows.tumblr.com/post/146685545382/us-at-the-end-of-the-world-they-told-each-other


End file.
